BGS is thrilled to present the second episode of Can I Eat This?, a new series from singer-songwriter and avid forager Sean Rowe. In each episode, Rowe is joined by a musical guest with whom he ventures out into woods surrounding the artfully designed grounds of AutoCamp’s Catskills resort where wild food abounds. In addition to finding, harvesting, and preparing their haul, Rowe and his guest record a song together. In this second episode, he performs Tom Waits’ “Hold On” with Alisa Amador.
“You really never know what kind of chemistry you’re going to have with another artist on set,” Rowe says. “I’d never performed with Alisa before and in fact, hadn’t even met her before she showed up for the shoot! I love the risky element of improvisation where you just don’t know what to expect, but Alisa’s positive energy on the set was palpable and infectious.”
The developing interest in foraging can be attributed to a number of factors including a flood of popular books and documentaries detailing the alarmingly negative health and environmental impacts of America’s fast-food/factory-farmed-based diets. Also, after more than two years spent in an emotionally-charged state of isolation, many are seeking out the space and quiet serenity of nature. Taken in combination, the series is a gentle and inviting respite from modern life and provides viewers with relatively simple methods of making positive changes in their lives.
Among other wild foods-based programs, which tend to be serious in tone with an emphasis on survivalist themes, Can I Eat This? stands out. Rowe’s enthusiasm is infectious and welcoming to anyone who wants to learn more about this increasingly popular pursuit.
Editor’s Note: Watch Episode 1 with musical guest Taylor Ashton.
For the past eight or so years I’ve been making this joke that we (the music industry) should “Give women Americana.” As in, if we gave the entire genre — and bluegrass and country and old-time and folk, for that matter — to women and femmes and non-men, I wouldn’t so much miss the men and the music would certainly be well cared for and well set up for the future.
My point, as I continue to make this joke year after year to many puzzled reactions, is that women and femme roots musicians have and will always be my favorite artists, creators, songwriters, and pickers. As I crafted my debut solo album, 1992 – often with incredibly talented women like producers and engineers (and pickers) Cathy Fink & Marcy Marxer, mastering engineer Anna Frick, photographer Laura E. Partain – the music that inspired, informed, and challenged me most through this release was all made by women. (Ask me sometime about my monthly Spotify playlist, Don’t Need No Man.) When BGS approached me to make a Mixtape to celebrate 1992, I knew I had to share some of the women who helped me realize, musically, artistically, socially, emotionally, that there could be a home for me in bluegrass, largely because they had created such a home exactly for me. Here are a few of my bluegrass, old-time, and country inspirations, all of whom have filtered into this album in one way or another. – Justin Hiltner
Ola Belle Reed – “High On the Mountain”
1992 was tracked in Ashe County, North Carolina, in a little town called Lansing nestled into the Blue Ridge Mountains, right where Tennessee, Virginia, and North Carolina meet. I love it out there on the mountain, in the wind, in the clouds, on the rocky little road cuts and switchbacks through the hills. Lansing also happens to be the hometown of a legendary Appalachian musician and bluegrass forebear, Ola Belle Reed. A banjo she once owned and had signed hung on the wall beside me while I tracked every song. I definitely see my album as stemming from the lineage of Ola Belle, humbly and gratefully. Cathy Fink & Marcy Marxer – “Hold Each Other Up”
I’ve been so lucky to collaborate with folk icons, Grammy winners, and children’s music legends Cathy & Marcy in so many different contexts and scenarios, every single one delightful and fulfilling. They’re amazing mentors and encouragers and while we recorded 1992 we had to take the chance to channel their amazing attitudes and worldviews into a COVID-inspired (or -instigated) track, “Hold Each Other Up.” I love getting to pick and sing with these two, and their engineering, production, wisdom, and guidance all made this record possible.
Laurie Lewis – “I’m Gonna Be the Wind”
Long before I ever got the chance to tour and perform with Laurie Lewis she was a hero of mine, someone I looked up to and knew would be a bluegrass legend and stalwart who could or would accept me for who I am. Turns out, often in bluegrass, it is okay to meet your heroes, because when we met and I got to work for her, it turned out I was absolutely right. Her writing style, her artistic ethos, and the way she infuses pure bluegrass energy and her personality into everything she does reminds me I can be who I am, play the music I play, and write the way I write. This song picks me up whenever I’m down and gives me self-confidence and optimism when I need it most.
Alice Gerrard & Hazel Dickens – “Mama’s Gonna Stay”
I never had the honor of meeting Hazel before she passed in 2011, but Alice Gerrard and I have become friends over the past six years and honestly, if 17-year-old Justin knew he’d become friends with this Bluegrass Hall of Famer, he’d die. We happen to share a birthday, too. Alice is a gem, a trailblazer, an unassuming and unrelenting activist and organizer and community builder. She inspires me in all of the above, but especially in her willingness, across her entire career, to write music about things no one else was writing about. This song, which Laurie Lewis turned me onto (she performs it as well), is a perfect example.
Playing shows and recording totally solo is often terrifying. Especially as a bluegrass banjo player used to playing in five-piece lineups. It took many years and lots and lots of practice time and experimental shows to figure out how exactly I wanted to arrange songs, build shows, create and ride a storytelling arc during my shows, guide an audience, and do all of that confidently with just a voice and banjo. Artists and pickers like Elizabeth Cotten gave me frames of reference for what I was doing that felt solidly bluegrass, but still building a show and sound that feels fully realized and not lacking for being minimal.
Missy Raines – “Where You Found Me”
Missy Raines is another hero of mine that I feel so lucky to now call a friend. Despite coming from different generations and very different circumstances we have so much in common. It just sometimes astounds me that we can have seemingly endless conversations around if bluegrass (or country or roots music) are accepting and open; meanwhile one of the winningest pickers in the history of bluegrass and the IBMA – that is, Missy Raines – has always been both accepting and open. Who needs the sexist, homophobic, womanizing, problematic elements of bluegrass when you have absolute badass legends like Missy!? I once covered this song for a “Cover Your Friends” show and it continues to devastate me to this day.
Caroline Spence – “Scale These Walls”
When I first moved to town, Caroline Spence was one of maybe four or five people I knew in all of Nashville. We spent a lot of time together in those early years, back in 2011 and 2012, and pretty soon after that we wrote a song together, “Pieces.” We both loved it a lot, performed it here and there with different lineups and bands, but it never landed on a record ‘til now. “Scale These Walls,” from Caroline’s most recent album, is constantly stuck in my head. I love how it showcases her jaw-dropping skill for writing dead-on hooks that feel so organic and never corny. I love this song.
Molly Tuttle – “Crooked Tree”
Molly Tuttle and I wrote “Benson Street,” a track off my new album, together about five or six years ago. It’s a cute little number about longing told through the lens of an idyllic Southern summer. I love every chance I get to make music or write music with Molly. She’s a constant source of inspiration for me and proof positive that you can be a proverbial crooked tree in bluegrass and still carve a pathway to success. Plus, she’s another great example of a picker who can command an entire audience totally solo. Trying to steal tricks from Molly Tuttle? Couldn’t be me.
Rhiannon Giddens – “Following the North Star”
Rhiannon Giddens is the blueprint. When I think about my artistic future and the way I want to be able to glide between media, between contexts, between areas of expertise and subject matter, between pop and roots and so many other musical communities, I think of Rhiannon. The way she has built her career around her artistic and political perspective, so that no matter what she does it feels grounded in her personality and selfhood is exactly how I want to be as an artist and creator. Plus, I always want to be as big of a music nerd and as big of an old-time nerd as her.
Maya de Vitry – “How Bad I Wanna Live”
Maya is one of those writers and musicians who just makes me feel seen and heard and understood, and I know I’m only one in a huge host of people who would say the same. The vulnerability and transparency in her writing and the emotional and spiritual availability within it are astounding. Plus, she’s almost always, constantly challenging herself to consider the ways she creates and makes music outside of consumerism and art as a commodity. I moved to Nashville to be challenged, musically and artistically, by those around me and I feel so lucky to have Maya around me and a member of my community.
Courtney Hartman – “Moontalk”
Courtney Hartman’s “Moontalk” makes me feel like every single song I’ve ever written about the moon is good and right and allowable. (We both have quite a few songs about the moon, actually.) “Moontalk” feels like Mary Oliver incarnate in bluegrass-informed picking and singing. It feels meditative and contemplative, but not timid or insular – something I’m always trying to accomplish in solo contexts. I’m constantly inspired by Courtney and the way she centers community building in her music and life. She’s another one who, though she thrives performing and making music solo, you know that music came from a multitude of folks pouring through her.
Dale Ann Bradley – “He’s the Last Thing On My Mind”
I thank a few artists who have inspired and influenced me in a huge way in 1992’s liner notes and Dale Ann Bradley is one of them. I feel like I am constantly ripping off and (poorly) mimicking her vocal runs, phrasing, licks, and delivery. I think she might have the best bluegrass voice of all time, or at least it’s very very high up on the list. When I first moved to town I worked as an intern at Compass Records and just getting to be a small part of the team that worked a handful of her records meant so much to me.
Lee Ann Womack – “Last Call”
Lee Ann Womack is another who I thank in the album’s liner notes, another who I emulate vocally as much as I can get away with. I used to wear out this track and this album, Call Me Crazy, listening on repeat over and over. When I found out this song was co-written by an openly gay songwriter, it rocked my world. I already heard so much queerness in LAW’s catalog, and this confirmation came at a time when I needed to feel like I was given permission to exist in bluegrass, country, and Nashville. I know now that no one needs that permission, but it was critical then.
Linda Ronstadt – “Adios”
During the 1992 recording session I recorded a solo banjo rendition of this song, one I’ve been performing for years at shows. It means so much to me and Linda’s performance is stunning in its power and tenderness, a combination I’m often striving for. I hope to release it some time soon as a single, then again on a deluxe vinyl edition of 1992. It will not be the last time I pay tribute to Linda and her incredible career and catalog – plus, she is a huge bluegrass fan! It just makes sense to me.
Dolly Parton, Emmylou Harris, Linda Ronstadt – “Wildflowers”
When I had the pleasure of being a guest on the hit podcast Dolly Parton’s America, I sang this song and “Silver Dagger” among a few other from Dolly’s catalog that I felt had queer under/overtones. The response to my on-air picking was enormous, and there were immediate demands to release my versions of the songs. Cathy, Marcy and I recorded “Wildflowers” together during the 1992 sessions and it’s one of my favorite tracks that resulted from that week on the mountain. It’s gotten quite a lot of play, which I’m so grateful for, and always gives me an opportunity to talk about Trio and Dolly and how the story in “Wildflowers” parallels many a queer journey. It’s the perfect track to round out this Mixtape and I thank you for reading and listening along.
Artist:Benjamin Dakota Rogers Hometown: Mt. Pleasant, Ontario, Canada Song: “Arlo” Album:Paint Horse Release Date: February 17, 2023 Label: Good People Only
In Their Words: “I think there’s a bunch of things that came together for me when I was writing ‘Arlo.’ I’d spent more time at my folks’ farm through the pandemic and developed a newfound appreciation for the land and the quiet that was missing in my youthful lust to escape rural life. With that appreciation came the frustration that it wasn’t as quiet as it used to be, as more trucks and cars sped up and down the highway a concession over. Seeing farms in our county be bought out for development and feeling the strong sense that the 150-year-old home I grew up in wouldn’t be there any more in 50 years. Amidst all of that, trying to find where I fit in and who I want to be as the world changes around me. I think that’s where Arlo comes from: he’s someone like me who maybe didn’t have music. We shot the video in the loft of my family’s old pack barn; I do a lot of writing up there in the summer. It’s full of antiques and still smells of the tobacco that hasn’t hung there in 30 years.” — Benjamin Dakota Rogers
The talented and resilient Ruthie Foster, whose voice is often compared to Aretha Franklin’s, used the pandemic to reconnect to the music, friends and emotions that have shaped her life. She called on her touring ensemble, The Family Band, as well as producers, co-writers and musicians she knows well to create her ninth album, Healing Time.
Growing up in Texas, Foster was surrounded by southern blues and gospel. During a stint as vocalist with the U.S. Navy Band, she constantly toured with a quickly changing repertoire, from rock, blues and country to military and classical pieces. Today, her varied musical tastes show up in every performance: as she says, “From reggae to Mississippi John Hurt.” Since releasing her first album in 1997, she has played across the country and around the world, drawing in audiences with her big, beautiful voice and her even bigger heart.
A four-time Grammy nominee, Foster has earned many accolades and awards from the Blues Foundation and the Living Blues Awards. She has performed with the icons of contemporary music, from the Allman Brothers to the Blind Boys of Alabama to James Taylor. On November 19, she became only the sixth musician to receive a star on the sidewalk of the Paramount Theater in her adopted hometown of Austin.
BGS: How did Healing Time come together?
Foster: I really wanted to do something that involved my band, something that we could do together. Because that’s my family – my band is my family. And this is the first time I’ve actually recorded with my band for the most part. Coming out of the pandemic, people were starting to gather a bit, and we were asked to record Austin City Limits, a special show without an audience. That was in January after that first year.
So, I flew my band down for that. Scottie Miller, who wrote the song “Healing Time,” is my piano player and lives in Minneapolis. Hadden Sayers, my guitar player, came from Columbus, Ohio. Brennen Temple is here in Austin, and Larry Fulcher, my bass player, is in Houston. So, everybody came in, and while they were here, we sat and wrote together. That’s how it started: Let’s get everybody back together for some writing sessions and be in the same room after so many months of isolation.
Was this your first serious effort at co-writing?
I have co-written a lot, even though not a lot got recorded. When I was in the New York area with Atlantic Records, I co-wrote a lot. It was more of a development deal. I used the time after I signed with them to learn the whole craft. For example, I really learned how to play in front of people, even though I had been doing that for many years. I learned how to write different ways with different people. Those three years were about learning how to write and play to empty venues – because I played at seven o’clock at night, and New Yorkers don’t come out at seven o’clock, you know? But this was the first time writing together with the guys. They’re all writers. They all produce and release their own music. So, I’m very, very lucky and blessed to be able to have them come out with me when they can, because they all tour.
It sounds like you credit collaboration with your band and your producers for the quality of this project.
That was important to me. The focus of this album was to make it a band family project. I used a couple different producers. Mark Howard was wonderful to work with. We started at a studio here in Austin with my band and then went to New Orleans with a wonderful set of fellas over there: basically, the people he worked with on the Emmylou Harris album [1994’s Wrecking Ball]. Then we came back to Austin and worked at a studio with a different producer. Dan Barrett. Dan was able to help me finish off the album because I started touring again in between sessions.
You’re really happy with this whole project. What do you like so much about it?
First, I didn’t really play on this album, I just wanted to sing, and that gave me a lot more freedom to go places I really wanted to go vocally. And it was just so much fun. I wanted to lean more toward soul and R&B, which we did. I have to admit, I have been writing and tweaking some of these tunes for many, many years. The pandemic gave me a chance to pull out some of these cassette tapes and some CDs that had songs that were partially done and rework them. “Don’t Want to Give Up on You” was one of those songs. That started out more folk, just me on a guitar. I changed the groove a little bit, and I changed the chords a little bit, and that’s when it went soul.
“What Kind of Fool” was written by myself, Scottie and Hadden, and this version is nowhere near the demo. Getting ready to record, I’m standing in front of the microphone, everybody else is standing in with their instruments. And Mark surprised us. He gave us a reference track. Gosh, I think it was something that Adele recorded. So, it took us to another place. We slowed it down, added a little more reverb and a little funky, saucy guitar. And it just went somewhere fun — and scary at the same time. Because I’m walking up to the microphone, and this song is a totally different tempo. It’s a totally different groove. I’m trying to figure out where I’m singing here. Let me find space to sing — and that’s also what made it fun.
It shows you had a lot of trust and confidence in everyone.
There was a lot of trust involved as a singer, because usually these guys will play these songs through without a vocal track. And then we’ll try a scratch track. But this one was pretty much me in the room with them, so we were all on the high wire together. Mark brought a very special microphone that had been used for recording people like Frank Sinatra and Etta James, a very expensive and beautiful mic that was so sensitive to sing through. And I was excited to sing through something that made my voice feel so warm, without anything connected to it, almost naked.
Early in your career you were being guided toward pop music, but you preferred to stay closer to the roots music you grew up with. What’s roots music for you?
Roots music is about really simple instrumentation. To me, that’s acoustic guitar and piano, which was my first instrument. For me it was Lightnin’ Hopkins. A lot of his kinfolk lived in the same area where I lived. His nephew Milton Hopkins was still playing around in Texas, so I got a chance to open for him once in a while. So, I was very connected to blues music, and to me that was roots music.
Then it was the folk music I learned on guitar — and a lot of Beatles, James Taylor. And branching off from there, I loved Phoebe Snow and Janis Ian. But I didn’t hear anyone doing soul music in an acoustic way. I think that was what was missing for me. I did Aretha Franklin on acoustic guitar. I did Sam Cooke on acoustic guitar. And for me, that was roots. It’s almost like bringing two different worlds together. And it has a lot to do with the sets that I put together these days.
Did you ever record any Sam Cooke songs?
No, that’s all just live. Once in a while we’ll pull something like that out for an encore. And that’s always fun to watch peoples’ faces turn to smiles. You can see them thinking, “Yeah, I remember ‘You Send Me.’” Yeah, I love doing that. My mother sang gospel music. She sang soul music, too. So, this was just my way of communicating to my mother, who died at 53, doing something like “You Send Me” and remembering how much she and my father loved Sam Cooke’s music.
Can you talk about “4 AM,” a song you wrote while touring in Europe?
I was by myself on this one, although I usually travel with a tour manager. I was in Latvia, but this could have been anywhere. You know, I’ve gone through this in Michigan or sitting in a hotel room in Chicago. You just feel so disconnected after being so connected and plugged in. When I’m on stage, I’m given everything, because it’s just as much for me as it is for the audience. You get up at four in the morning, most of the day is spent traveling. And then you get that little 75- to 90-minute spot to just let your heart go and give what you’re there to do. And then you get all this love at the CD table, and people tell you how much those songs mean to you.
And then you pack it all up and you head back to your Comfort Inn. And you’re trying to find your room key, and you’re holding a guitar and all of your stuff, and you finally get in the room. And then it’s just you. And it’s the middle of the night. And in some ways, it’s very peaceful. But other nights when it’s the fifth night in a row and you’re tired and hungry for a one-on-one, it gets lonely.
On the night I wrote this song, I had a little bit of vodka left from a gift, and I had a beautiful tea set that was brought to me that morning, and I thought I’d just stay up and see what comes up. And that was that. I finished it that night. Obviously, I’m okay, but yeah, you get a little depressed, and it’s easy to slip into a dark side. And I want to confine that to just music.
It’s about plugging in and allowing people to see the real you. That song is as close to me as you’re gonna get for what I was going through that night. I hope people connect with it. I’ve had feedback like that at the CD table. Once this young fellow walked up to me after waiting in a long line. He stood there and just cried. He just bawled. He couldn’t get a word out. So, I had to just hold on to him for a while. When that happens, I know I’ve done something. I’ve touched somebody. That’s also a reminder that I still have work to do. I still have something to say.
Ruthie, is there anything particular you’d like BGS readers to know about you?
Well, you can’t categorize me. I don’t know if it’s a blessing or a curse. But I’ll take whatever it is, as long as what I’m doing reaches people in the deepest way. You can’t put me in a box, and I think that says a lot about not just who I am, but who we all are.
Artist:Maggie Pope Hometown: Philadelphia, Pennsylvania Song: “Northern Girl” Release Date: November 18, 2022
In Their Words: “I most often write songs with the hope that others will find their own unique connection with and meaning for the song — that its lyrics and melodies will resonate with the listener’s own story. The same is true for ‘Northern Girl,’ though I will say that for me, this one was inspired by and will always be about my grandmother. She lived in Gloucester, Massachusetts, right on the edge of the Annisquam River. I lived with her for a year or so after college as I found my footing and was working in Boston. She was full of wisdom and music and warm hugs.
“She once said to me, ‘Now, you know they’ll be okay’ when I had been worrying about some people close to me who were navigating a difficult situation. It was just a conversation we had in her kitchen, next to the muffin tin and the little jar on the windowsill that she had stuffed full with some bread crust to save to feed to the birds. The memory of it is still so clear in my mind and her words hit so profoundly for some reason. It wasn’t until I shared this song with my dad and he said, ‘Hey, you included a line in that song that is really special and something she used to say all the time to us’ that I realized why. Now, you know we’ll be okay.
“So much gratitude to my friends Nicholas Gunty, for producing this one in the most perfect way, and Brad Hinton, for lending his sweet voice.” — Maggie Pope
Artist:Nick Fallon Weitzenfeld Hometown: Floyd, Virginia Song: “no.” Album:shuttered blind Release Date: November 18, 2022 Label: Fallon Records
In Their Words: “This song might be considered the crazy uncle of the EP. It’s a nugget of simple poppy-silliness in the midst of much more serious pieces. ‘no.’ is about ghosting and all its relatives, both from the perspective of the ghoster and the ghostee. Whether it’s completely cutting contact with a romantic prospect, slowly falling out of communication with a friend, or just not responding to a potential plan, my generation is in the midst of a decency crisis when it comes to our online interactions. We might be too connected for our own good, unable to set boundaries and have challenging conversations with our peers. A song for the youth to chew on, perhaps 🙂 ” — Nick Fallon Weitzenfeld
Artist:Sarah Lee Langford & Will Stewart Hometown: Birmingham, Alabama Song: “Staring at the Sun” Album:Bad Luck and Love Release Date: November 18, 2022 Label: Cornelius Chapel Records
In Their Words: “‘Staring at the Sun’ is one of those songs that began on the late-night, slow-tempo songwriting couch, and the band turned it into something fit for the public. With these lyrics, I’m telling everyone to remind me not to go down that same road again when I know damn well I’ll do it anyway. These songs make me look at my life over and over, as I work them out with the band, try them out on stage, and record take after take in the studio. Then perform them fully fledged, sometimes right in front of the people who inspired them. It’s like each time the experience loses some of its charge, as I embody how I got there in the first place. People tell me these songs are relatable, so they’re not selfishly just for me, which makes them worth writing.” — Sarah Lee Langford
In many ways, singer-songwriter Gabe Lee is the consummate Nashville native. A folkophile raised around church music and enthralled by the work of everyone from John Prine to Nikki Lane, he trained as a concert pianist and tended bar for the thirsty tourists, then went on to create a righteously retro brand full of tasty twang and true-to-life lyricism.
Think of that as his Nashville-based, Americana-artist starter pack. But as a second-generation American raised by Taiwanese parents, Lee also has a unique point of view on this city of dream chasers … and on its power to mold.
That perspective informs much of his third album, The Hometown Kid, a project that traces the effects of growing up in Nashville but dreaming of what lies out there beyond its borders, only to actually find out. The follow up to 2020’s well-received Honky Tonk Hell, Lee’s new effort arrives after his first taste of success (plus the whirlwind of travel that came with it) and comes with a diverse roots-rock sound informed by his journey. But rather then romanticize being gone, it may ultimately find more meaning in coming home.
Just before The Hometown Kid’s release on October 28, Lee spoke with BGS about his unique Nashville roots, and how coming home was the right call for him.
BGS: The Hometown Kid follows Honky Tonk Hell, and that wound up bringing you some real attention. How were you feeling heading into this new project?
Lee: Well, we’re always chasing, man. … This is our third record, and I guess like a carpenter makes however many chairs before he makes a perfect one, every single time we get back in the studio, every time we write another song, we’re just trying to hone things in.
The Hometown Kid felt very natural to me, kind of telling stories about finding my way home, and images and vignettes that have always inspired me growing up here — which I think has made its way into all of my songs, really. … But especially ‘cause Nashville’s changed so much, we’re really wanting to express my love and my journey being a Nashville native.
Tell me a little bit about that journey. Do you feel like you had the typical Music City childhood?
Absolutely, I think the emotions and the experience on this record are really not particularly unique from anyone else’s, but I’ve been lucky to have been brought up here. Through a web of circumstances that brought my parents to the States in the ‘80s, they finished their education, found their first real career jobs in Nashville, and then found a house in Bellevue, which they now own. We’ve been out there my entire life, so that stability — in this town that is full of folks moving in and moving out constantly — is definitely unique.
I’m inspired by folks who uproot themselves and chase a dream and move to Nashville, pursue music with a guitar and a couple bucks. It takes a lot of guts. But the message here is, we all have felt pain and loneliness and sorrow, and we’ve all felt joy … We’ve all been out there on the road and missed home, and we’ve all been at home and kind of felt like we were missing an opportunity, you know, out in the world. As a traveler now, I feel that all the time.
Those themes you write about are definitely relatable, but you also have an interesting perspective through your Taiwanese heritage. Does that get woven into the songs?
I’ve definitely created my own community here, growing up around the culture of Music City and the lifeblood of music business. I’m very entrenched in that, but with my parents, their story is inspiring to me, too. My parents are a huge part of my music education. My mom’s a pianist. She’s played in the church growing up. She still plays in the church on Sundays. Even if I haven’t gone in years [laughs], church music was a great foundation for my love for music in general.
Plus, think about the language barrier, the culture shock, all those things [my parents dealt with] in coming here. They were chasing a dream, too, like “I’m gonna work hard. Head down. Save money. Have a better life for my kids.” And I’m lucky to be the recipient of that. … They’ve invested in my music ever since I was a kid. I was doing school bands, piano lessons, church choir and all that nerdy stuff. I think I was built for it in a lot of ways.
Why did you start the album off with “Wide Open”? It’s so mellow but feels like it’s about to explode somehow.
I think it was really good summation of my emotions the last couple years. I’ve been a bartender for 10-plus years, since high school almost. And this last summer was the first time I haven’t needed to pick up a shift. I’ve been able to survive on the road, opening for some really great acts and, you know, sleeping in the car at Love’s [laughs]. Just living the glamorous life! … But it’s like, this is what I wanted. This is what I’ve been pushing for. This is what everyone has to experience at some point if they want to level up. “Woke up in a hotel room/Whole place is shut down/But I’m wide open.”
“Over You” has a cool, John Prine-style line – “Take me through the valley/To Williamson County/ Where even the garbage is clean.” What does that mean for non-Nashville listeners?
I used to bartend out in Cool Springs [a retail area in Franklin, Tennessee], and the demographic out there is very different from the demographic in downtown Nashville — where I’ve also bartended [laughs]. It just came to me because of our current national state where it feels like people are on edge, no one feels like they have enough, but people are still fucking raging and partying and enjoying themselves — ‘cause they can. So “where the garbage is clean,” it’s like one man’s garbage is another’s treasure, and that was a way for me to impart that on this heartbreak song. It’s like, just take me somewhere where I don’t feel like such a piece of shit.
The single “Rusty” pairs this heartland rock vibe with a theme of time passing, striking out on your own and trying to figure yourself out. What have you learned by leaving home?
It starts with “All the roads around here will get you where you’re going/All the roads around here will slow you down some day.” It’s just one of those things every person can understand, a great metaphor for everything we face constantly. It’s like, you could sit there like everybody else and wait your turn in line, or you could forge your own path — and then you’re responsible for the consequences. I guess it’s the story of The Hometown Kid, from top to bottom. And not only is the road a very real place for travelers, or touring musicians. I mean, everyone is on their own road in so many ways.
Really, “Rusty” was about a crossroads in my life where my relationships were not great. I had kind of separated myself one summer and I was working an odd job out in East Tennessee, and I just realized, I really don’t want to go home. I really did not feel like I belonged. It was the same going to college in Indiana instead of Belmont [on a piano scholarship]. Leaving home and pursuing music on my own terms literally changed the course of my life. But then ultimately, coming back to Nashville has always been the right decision.
Artist:Caleb Caudle Hometown: Germanton, North Carolina Album:Forsythia
Which artist has influenced you the most … and how?
I would say as far as songwriting goes, It would be Guy Clark. I like how plain he can be. It’s very matter of fact. I try to write in my speaking voice and I know Guy did, too. It’s easy to connect to. He always went heavy on the details and I try my best to always do the same. In a time where everything feels as if it’s been written about before, details are sort of the last frontier.
What’s the toughest time you ever had writing a song?
I struggled for about a year and a half with “I Don’t Fit In,” which is the lead track on my new record. I thought it was finished but when I listened back to the demo it felt like I was complaining about not having a place in this world. I didn’t like that. I rewrote the verses from a place of power. I wanted to feel proud about the trail I was blazing. I’m not sure where I land musically and it’s constantly evolving. I think there’s something really special about that.
What has been the best advice you’ve received in your career so far?
I was doing a tour with Ray Wylie Hubbard in California four or five years ago and we were talking about gigs where folks don’t show up and how discouraging that can be and he said “Now Caleb, just remember…never play to the empty seats,” and it changed the way I felt about the audience who was there. I have such a deeper appreciation for those moments now.
Which elements of nature do you spend the most time with and how do those impact your work?
While I love all nature and what it brings to the table, at heart I’m a mountains guy. I love how small they make me feel. I also love the difference between the older mountain ranges like The Smokies, Catskills and Ozarks when compared to the Rockies or Tetons. They are all beautiful in their own way.
Since food and music go so well together, what is your dream pairing of a meal and a musician?
I’d say a plate of Hoppin’ John which is usually meant for New Year’s Day but we make it anytime we want. It’s black-eyed peas, collard greens, cornbread and country ham. I’d pair it with Doc Watson because I’m from Doc Country and I’d be shocked if it wasn’t a meal he loved, too.
In Their Words: “‘Hot Dice’ is a self-deprecating exploration of my tendency to ruin otherwise joyful moments with polarizing political conversation pieces or fatalistic and rambling soliloquies. By the end of the song, I learn to be slightly less of a vibe killer and just tell ‘a gross joke instead.’ Musically, it’s jangly heartland folk-rock that’s been elevated with super chorus-y guitar, great multiple harmony bgvs, and an altered arrangement toward the end of the song that really makes it shine. That drum fill is pretty sick, too. Obviously I’m biased.” — Colin Halliburton, The Roseline
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